Mentalist Episode Tag: Little Red Book, 4x2
by Donnamour1969
Summary: Jane owes the team a big thanks for their support. A little humor, a lot of introspection. Spoilers, 4x2. No copyright infringement intended.


A/N: I LOVED this episode! I was laughing all the way through the beginning, feeling so very sorry for Jane's new team. They didn't even stand a chance. And that ending—I swear I was holding my breath, my heart pounding as Rosalind Barker felt Carter's dead face. Fantastic television. And what about that weird hug from LaRoche? Almost as shocking as the finale, lol. And Cho—I can't believe I doubted him, even for a second. Well, I think Jane owes his team some appreciation for all they've done for him lately, so here is what I wish would happen. I hope you agree…

**Episode Tag: "Little Red Book" 4x2**

Jane had timed it perfectly. Just when everyone on the team was about to leave for the day, he showed up with two pizzas and a six-pack of beer.

"Closed case pizza!" He announced cheerfully. He set the boxes down on the conference table and didn't have to wait long for the team to converge on a free meal. It occurred to him that every one of them was single, used to microwaving dinners for one or stopping by a takeout restaurant on the way home. He was more than happy to save them all from another lonely meal.

"I know it's a day late, but I couldn't let our official reunion pass unnoticed."

Rigsby opened the top box and grinned at the supreme toppings (which included pineapple), unabashedly grabbing a loaded slice. "Thanks, Jane. Great idea." And he took a large bite of the cheese-laden triangle.

"Thanks," echoed Cho, who opened the other box, gratefully finding a large, fruit-free piece for his own.

Lisbon and Van Pelt came a moment later, plates, plastic ware and napkins in tow.

"You're feeling awfully generous tonight," Lisbon teased, for Jane was certainly well-known for his generosity.

"What can I say? I've got to keep you all full and happy so you'll keep overlooking my shortcomings."

Van Pelt looked at the consultant's offering in amusement. "You're probably gonna need more pizza than this then."

The rest of the group laughed, Jane suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that he had almost lost this—almost lost them. He felt a wave of emotion that nearly knocked him off his feet, and he stood there, a wobbly smile pasted on his face as their welcome laughter subsided and they got down to the serious business of eating. Lisbon noticed his frozen expression, and she touched his arm tentatively. Jane willfully blinked away the unexpected emotion. He cleared his throat and gave her a watery grin, a nod of understanding passing between them. He wondered sometimes if _she_ were the mind reader.

"Hey, guys, grab a beer everyone. I'd like to propose a toast."

There was the soft sound of the twisting of bottle caps, and Jane waited patiently for everyone to pause, beers held at the ready, all eyes now on him.

"I just want to thank you all for standing by me these past few weeks. I know that I'd still be in jail, maybe even facing death row, if you hadn't had faith in me. So, here's to you guys, and here's to the team being back here in this lovely bullpen, eating greasy pizza where we belong."

"I'll second that," Lisbon added meaningfully, green eyes resting on each member of her beloved team. They'd worked together to get her job back, and she was extremely grateful. One more week at home and she might have gone insane.

"To the team," they all chorused, taking a swig of beer. Jane took his usual polite sip and set down his bottle, then gladly reached for a slice of supreme. They slipped into their easy banter, their teasing, their laughter, as they dined and drank cold beer. Jane was unusually quiet, contemplating not what he'd said in the toast, but what he _hadn't_ said—what he couldn't.

When he'd lost his family, he'd never imagined anyone would be able to refill that role in his life. But these people, _they_ were his family now. He couldn't have gotten through the past eight years without them. The loss of his wife and child had left a gaping hole in his heart, but each one of this team had helped in their own way to patch it a little.

His eyes drifted around the table, stopping and focusing on each of his coworkers in turn.

_Van Pelt_. She'd made the ultimate sacrifice, killing the man she loved before he could kill anyone else. She was putting on a brave front, but the strain in her eyes hinted at her deeply felt pain, her sleepless nights. No one knew better than Jane what she must be feeling. Their circumstances were a bit different, but guilt was guilt, and he realized he might be able to help her in ways that her ineffective shrink could not. He'd make the time to talk to her soon.

_Rigsby_. The reluctant hero. Jane didn't really blame him. After all, what right did Jane have to ask a man to risk his life, risk his job in someone else's personal quest for vengeance? It was understandable that he didn't want to throw himself into the fire for a man like Jane, a man who might close cases, but had only succeeded in being good for a laugh and good at getting the team into trouble. He held nothing against Rigsby's reticence. He'd come through for Jane in the end, hadn't he? That's what counted in Jane's book.

_Cho. _If you looked up _loyalty _in the dictionary, there would be a picture of Kimball Cho, right next to man's best friend and the disciple, St. John. When Cho counted you as a friend, respected you as a comrade, he would lie for you, defend you to the death if he had to, doing it all with a simple, "I'm in." If in the years since he'd lost his family Jane could have made only one friend, he would have counted himself lucky to be able to count Cho.

And then there was Lisbon. _Lisbon. _He regarded her warmly as she sat beside him, noting that her forced time off really had done her good. She looked more relaxed than he'd seen her in well, _ever_, and it showed in the renewed sparkle of her eyes, the glossiness of her hair, the more frequent appearance of her dimples. She too had risked everything for him, and in the end had even changed her long-standing opinion about Red John. For his sake. He didn't know what he could possibly have done to earn the good will and trust of this woman, but he had, and his heart clenched at the thought that he might have lost her forever. If O'laughlin had killed her, Jane knew beyond a doubt that he wouldn't have survived it. She was his rock, his world beyond vengeance. They squabbled together, they laughed together, they teased one another. It was almost like an old, comfortable marriage, even down to the lack of sex.

He grinned at his own musings, and Lisbon caught his eye.

"What's so funny?" she asked softly near his ear.

"Trust me, Lisbon, you do not want to know—could probably not even follow- all the intricate workings of the powerful mechanism that is my brain."

She rolled her eyes. "Of that, I have no doubt," she said, and he knew he'd been thoroughly put in his place as only Teresa Lisbon could.

Jane laughed softly, one of those rare laughs that came when he was taken off guard and was able to forget for a few seconds that his wife and child were dead. Lisbon's dimples flashed in appreciation of the sound, and she grinned happily into his eyes.

"You'd better eat your pizza because I think Rigsby has designs on it."

"Hey!" protested the junior agent through his full mouth. He was already on his fourth slice. Everyone laughed because the truth was funny sometimes.

And speaking of truth…

"Hey, Lisbon, there's something I need to tell you about. I hope you won't be too mad that I went behind your back, but I wanted to be sure before I dragged you into another one of my schemes."

"Since when have you ever made that a consideration?" she said caustically, her eyes narrow and suddenly guarded.

He smiled. "Fair enough."

She sighed. "Don't you know by now Jane, that if you would just tell me stuff from the very beginning it would save us all a lot of heartache, and you a punch in the nose?"

"Well, I'm planning on telling you now, isn't that what counts?"

"I'll reserve judgment on that one. Now, spill it."

"Later," he reassured her, noting how happy everyone seemed at that moment, that even Van Pelt was smiling for the first time in days. They really didn't have to know right now that his suspicions that Red John was still out there had been confirmed by his visit to the coroner's office with Rosalind Barker. But he would tell them all very soon, starting with Lisbon. He owed it to them. They were his family, after all.

A/N: I know this was a little more serious and introspective than you might have expected from me, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. I tried to show what I thought/hoped Jane might be thinking now. Thanks for reading—I'd love for you to review! See you next week.


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